Saturday, June 24, 2006

• Of Magnets, Moments and Men

  My step father is dying of cancer. The biggest problem with this is that he is likely not a believer in Christ, and his denial of the severity of his situation concerns me.  He thinks he is, because he has sat on a pew for a few years, but I wonder if he has really trusted the One who gave His life for His people.

  I hear from his natural daughters that he is bitter and angry that he is about to lose his life.  After all, I am certain that his 88 years on the planet, most of them healthy and vital years, have given him a sense of entitlement to this life. 

  It reminds me that truly we do not own our lives.  Life is given and life is taken.  The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh, if you will.  Life is of God.  We have no control over when we enter and little over when we leave.  Each moment, each breath, belongs to God, not to us.

  We try to make our stay here pleasant and painless as we can, and can even take measures to prevent disease and stave off the Grim Reaper.  We live in denial that the end is coming for each of us.  Personally, I love my wrist magnet for joint pain.  But that joint pain reminds me, and my entire being reminds me (especially in the morning) that there is more time past for me than there is ahead.

  The array of things we have to dazzle and distract us from the inevitability of our position is staggering.  Parenting the baby, training the baby, taking the tike to soccer, getting him in the right school, seeing that he gets the right lessons, getting him into the right college, then a career, planning the wedding, then planning for retirement, with just a few vacations and hobbies here and there can consume all of our time.  I think this is what happened to Dad.  All his time was devoted to getting some place desirable, some place of peace and rest, some place where he could lay it all down and be content. 

  The place of peace and rest, where we can lay it all down, is right here, right now, in Christ.  Only the reconciliation  He offers the sinner provides the means to really  lay it all down, find that place of contentment, and live knowing that we truly own nothing, not even our lives, but we can wholly trust the One who gave us life.  Only seeking Him, the only God who claims to seek nothing from us but our seeking, grants this peace.

  Dad--your life is not your own.  Give what you cannot keep to gain what you cannot lose, in the words of Jim Elliott.  Seek Him while He may be found, for today is the day of salvation.  Throw yourself on His mercy and rest in His assurance that He who gave life can keep it safe in His heaven forever.  Ask and it shall be given.  Seek and ye too shall find.  Be certain that when you walk through that door, He is there with open arms.  I hope to see you soon.

   

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